


Through the Eluvian

by Ginger_Pop



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Modern Female Character, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3808306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger_Pop/pseuds/Ginger_Pop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another modern-girl-in-Thedas story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

“Thanks for watching the boys for me, Mom,” Liz said as she helped herself to one of the homemade oatmeal cookies that sat on her mother’s kitchen counter. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I feel guilty. You watch them so much for me.”

“Oh honey, it’s fine. Your father’s here to help me. And your sister will be by later. I have plenty of help. You haven’t done anything for yourself since…” Diane trailed off and went quiet for a moment before she cleared her voice and put a polite smile on her face, “In a very long time.”

Liz gave a nod and grabbed an extra cookie. She silently thanked the powers that be that her mother didn’t start in on her. Interactions with her mother rarely happened without a healthy dose of criticism. She’d been nervous to even ask her mom to watch her sons so that she could have a weekend with her friends.

“That is…”

Liz cringed internally and braced herself.

“If you’re sure you can afford it?” her mother asked as she moved about the kitchen, cleaning her already immaculate counter.

Liz’s eyes fluttered shut as she kept her back to her mother, willing herself to be patient. “Mom, we’re just doing some target shooting at Jackie’s. I’ve had the ammo for a long time. It’s not like it’s going to cost me anything. And even if we go by that flea-market, it’s not like I have to buy anything. I can window shop.” She grabbed up her overly large pink purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Anyway, speaking of Jackie, she’s waiting for me. I gotta go.” She hurried to the living room to kiss both her boys goodbye and had almost reached the front door when her mother’s voice called out to her again.

“You did pack something nice for them to wear to church tomorrow, didn’t you?”

“Yes, mother,” she ground out through clenched teeth. She dug in her purse and pulled out her keys and her sunglasses, sliding them onto her nose before she grabbed the blue pack of cigarettes at the bottom and moved them into her pocket.

“You know, you’d save a lot of money if you quit smoking.”

“Bye, Mom!” Liz slammed the door behind her and leaned heavily against it. “You know, maybe if you didn’t nag me so much, I might not smoke so much,” she growled before she hurried off the porch and threw herself into the minivan. She fished the cigarettes out of her pocket and lit one, drawing the smoke deep into her lungs before she exhaled slowly and stared at the sycamore tree at the corner of the yard and the little statues beneath it. She pressed her lips to a hard line, shook her head, and backed down the long gravel drive and out onto the highway. The warm spring breeze blew through the open windows, swirling her wild red curls around her face as she drove back towards town. She felt slightly guilty at the freedom that coursed through her as she cranked up the radio and sang loudly along with it. It was only one weekend. And she’d worked hard to earn just a little bit of free time.

It didn’t take long to drive through the small town and back into the countryside. And by the time she reached Jackie’s house and the cool shade of the trees that surrounded it, she forgot about her guilt.

Jackie sat on the tailgate of her orange SUV, fiddling with the lock on her gun case. Her blue eyes lit up as Liz pulled to a stop and got out with a wave. “Yay! You’re finally here!” she chirped. She clapped her hands excitedly and wiggled her hips. “Hey! Before we shoot, you wanna run out to Amish country? I want to check out that flea market.”

Liz cocked an eyebrow at her friend. “Since when do the Amish have flea markets?”

Jackie tipped her head as confusion spread across her face. “Uh, not sure,” she said, scratching at her blonde hair. “Maybe it’s not Amish? But it’s out by that Amish bakery. We can stop and buy some of that garlic-dill-bread,” she said, wagging her eyebrows. “It’s been a long time since we had any of that.”

Liz gave a soft chuckle and stared up at her friend. “Alright. But we’re taking your car. The soccer mom go-go-ghetto van is almost out of gas,” she said and climbed into the SUV. She shot Jackie an accusatory sideways glance. “Bribing me with fresh baked bread. You’re evil.”

Jackie threw her head back and laughed as they flew down the gravel roads. “Oh, it feels good to get out and do something with you again. It’s been too long.” She lit a cigarette of her own and rolled down the windows. “We could drive around lost out here all day again if you want.”

“Tempting as that sounds,” Liz said with a smirk, “I think I’d rather just get the bread and go back to your place to shoot something.” A calm washed over her as they drove through the farmland, the fresh smell of country air hitting her. “I really miss living in the country. One of these days, I’ll have enough money to get out of town.”

A slight frown crossed Jackie’s lips. “Are you sure you want to leave your house? You’ve only got a few more years until it’s paid off, right? Besides, that’s the house that James…”

“I know,” Liz interrupted with a sigh. She sat up straighter in the seat and shrugged. “I dunno. Doesn’t matter. I’ll never have the money to move anyway. It’s a pipe dream.” She was sorry she even brought up the subject. She didn’t want to think about the house, the bills, her job. She just wanted to escape for a little bit, to forget her responsibilities.

Jackie finally pulled to a stop in front of a little building out in the middle of nowhere with only a few other cars parked out front. She and Liz exchanged a look, shrugged their shoulders, and went inside.

“Oh yay,” Liz said sarcastically. “Look at all the pretty things I don’t need that I can buy with money I shouldn’t spend.” She looked at Jackie out of the corner of her eye, judging her friend’s reaction, and both women burst into giggles.

“Ah, let’s just look around and then we’ll go across the road and buy that bread,” Jackie said as they began to wander around the little store, which seemed overly crowded with knickknacks.

“Ugh, I’m gonna knock something over and break it, then have to pay for broken shit,” Liz said softly and pulled her big purse tighter against her side. “That’d be just my luck.”

Jackie screwed her lips around as if trying to hold in a laugh. “Well, it’s not your purse that would do it,” she teased. “You better try to suck in your hips.”

Liz smacked her arm. “Hey! You try corkin’ out two nine-pound babies and see what it does to your hips. You’re lucky your daughter is little. Have you seen the noggin on my Little Man? Jesus.” Still, she flexed the muscles in her thighs as if trying to will her hips to shrink. “If they didn’t pack this place so full, maybe I could actually walk through here. We’re not all tall, beautiful, and skinny like you, Jack.”

“You don’t wanna be this tall,” Jackie answered as she bent over to examine a pretty arrangement of old fashioned perfume bottles on an end table. “I’m taller than most men I meet. And forget about wearing high heels.”

Liz shrugged again and moved on, painfully conscious of all the items around her. It was hard to see so many neat things she wanted to take home when she knew she shouldn’t spend the money. She’d already promised herself take-out Chinese for dinner. Spending any more money would be irresponsible. Damn it all. “You know, I’m starting to think that growing up is the dumbest thing I ever did,” she said loudly over her shoulder to Jackie. “This responsibility thing sucks.”

Jackie laughed loudly at that. “Better than the alternative.” She stood up straight and looked at her friend. “You just need to make time for yourself. Do something fun. Something exciting! All you ever do is work. We need an adventure!”

“As long as that adventure can be had in less than a day, I might be able to swing something with Mom. I can’t keep asking her to watch the boys all the time. It wears her out too much. She tries to hide it, but with her being sick…” Liz trailed off. “Maybe I should cut some expenses somewhere. Hire a babysitter. Give Mom a break. Maybe that would give me more free time.”

Jackie knew Liz’s situation better than most. “And what are you going to give up? Electricity? Running water? Besides soda and cigarettes, you really don’t splurge on anything, Liz.”

“Hey, we’re in Amish country, aren’t we? They do it. Maybe I should ask for some pointers,” the redhead laughed. Secretly, she thought it would be rather fun to live like that. A simpler life without bills, where she could spend her days tending a garden and taking care of animals. But then the reality of no hot showers and no WiFi set in and she frowned. Maybe the idea wasn’t so romantic after all.

An ornate frame caught her eye and she ventured closer to it. She gasped as she realized it surrounded an impossibly tall mirror, tucked away in the corner of the little shop. “Oh wow,” she breathed as she reached out to trail her fingertips over the cold glass. “What the-?” she cried as the surface of the mirror changed to a marbled, swirling blue. She yanked her hand back as if the mirror had scalded her. It had to be a trick of some kind. She peered closely at it, her nose nearly touching the swirling surface.

“Hey Liz! Check these out!” Jackie said happily.

Liz jumped and turned abruptly, surprised to find Jackie so close. Her foot caught the bottom of the frame and she screamed as she tumbled backwards, falling through the mysterious mirror.

* * *

 

The crash of glass she expected never came. Instead she landed hard on her back on a cold stone floor in a dimly lit cavern. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light as she caught her breath. It felt as though all the air had been knocked from her lungs. “Where am I?” she wondered aloud as she pushed herself up. The coldness of the stone made her fingers sting. Her breath misted in the frosty air. She grabbed up her purse from the floor and slung it over her shoulder again, clinging to it. “Jackie?” she called loudly. There was no answer from her friend.

“Damn it,” she growled as she looked around. There was no mirror, certainly no more flea market, and no sign of Jackie. What in the world was happening? She didn’t have much time to think on it, for the next instant a glowing green figure appeared before her, hovering in midair. Liz screamed and ran with no sense of direction, only the need to escape from the apparition driving her. She skidded to a halt as more appeared in front of her and she turned, but the one following her was closing in. “Goddess, save me!” she cried and fell to her knees, covering her head with her arms.

Loud cracks and angry cries sounded around her, but she dared not move. Not until she heard a man’s voice.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

Cautiously, she lowered her arms, peering at the handsome man before her. He stared at her with piercing blue eyes, his jet black hair rather disheveled.

She gaped at him, unable to find her voice.

“Who are you?!” he demanded again, his voice harsher this time as he brandished a staff at her.

“Elizabeth Greene!” she answered, holding her hands up to show she was unarmed. “Don’t hurt me! I don’t know where I am!”

He stared at her for a moment longer, but then seemed to decide she wasn’t a threat, and lowered his staff a fraction. “Were you with the Elder One?” he asked. He didn’t recognize the style of her clothing, nor her slightly twangy accent.

“Who?” she asked, looking up at him again. “Er, what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her knees ached on the freezing stone floor, but she dared not move. He still held the staff tightly in his grip and he’d somehow managed to fight off those spirits with it. She did not want to end up on the business end of that thing.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said and started forward, marching past her. “I have to find my people.”

“Wait!” she cried and got to her feet, hurrying after him. “Please, don’t leave me here! I don’t know where I am, I don’t know how I got here! And I don’t know what those things were back there, but I know I don’t want to be here if more of them show up. Take me with you, please? Please?!” Liz normally wasn’t the sort to ask for help, much less beg, but she was frightened and the cavern certainly seemed safer with him than on her own.

He paused and looked over his shoulder at her. “Alright, but keep up,” he said and started forward again at a determined pace. It wasn’t in his heart to leave someone behind and he didn’t have time to stand around wondering where she came from. He had to find the others, make sure they’d escaped Haven safely.

Liz nearly sobbed in relief and fell into step behind him, trying to make sense of everything around her. The man she followed wore armor and chain-mail, splattered with blood. She had the distinct impression that most of it was not his own. “Were you in some sort of fight?” she asked cautiously as they walked through the cavern. Part of her wondered if she’d stumbled upon some sort of renaissance faire, but the armor he wore looked too genuine. And that didn’t explain those ghosts she’d seen.

“Yes,” he answered without looking at her. “The Elder One attacked Haven with an army of Templars. And a dragon.” He growled the last part, his eyes narrowing.

“Wait, what?” she shrieked. “A dragon? What do you mean a dragon?” Her head was reeling, trying to absorb the information so casually mentioned. Dragons weren’t real. “I’m dreaming,” she breathed. “I hit my head when I fell and this is some sort of fucked up dream.”

He chuckled at her. “If only it was.”

They soon exited the cavern and found themselves knee-deep in snow. The frigid wind blew mercilessly, stirring up the snow to sting their faces. Liz whimpered and wrapped her arms around herself as they trudged forward.

“You’re not exactly dressed for this,” he stated. Even with the adrenaline of the fight still singing through his veins and the armor he wore, the wind bit at his skin and made his eyes water. He wished he had something to offer her to shield her from the cold.

“No shit,” she muttered and sniffled. She was glad she chose to wear her boots that day, but jeans and her black tank-top were absolutely useless against the cold. “It was warm when I left the house. I wasn’t expecting to end up in the middle of a blizzard.” She grumbled and cursed her luck. The first really nice hot day of Spring, and now somehow she was stuck here in the freezing cold. “So what’s your name?” she asked, feeling she should at least know the name of the man who’d rescued her before she froze to death.

“Gareth Trevelyan,” he answered. He forced his legs to move through the snow, following a path nearly hidden beneath it. He worried over how many they’d lost at Haven, who may or may not have gotten out alive. He had to find them. He had to make sure they were alright.

Silence fell between them again as they struggled through the snow, the only sounds around them the blustering wind and their occasional shudders. Liz felt her lips cracking, her fingers so achingly numb that she didn’t even attempt to move them anymore. Her jeans were wet from the knees down and her eyes stung as the snow assaulted her bared skin. The snow was so heavy on the air, she could barely see where she was going and in the distance, she could hear the mournful cries of a wolf. It only made her shiver harder.

Gareth stumbled and Liz reached out to grab his arm, stopping him from falling. He gave a nod and regained his footing, pressing onwards. “We should find them soon,” he said, his voice strained. “They will have shelter. Blankets. We’re not going to die out here.”

Liz tried to take some comfort in his words, but the situation seemed hopeless. There was no sign of anyone else out there and no civilization to be had. She couldn’t remember ever being so cold in her life. Her knees were weak, her very bones hurting in the icy wind. “I can’t,” she gasped out as she tripped and fell. If she’d had the strength, she would’ve screamed at the bite of the snow on her skin.

“Elizabeth! You have to get up!” Gareth insisted, dropping to his knees next to her. He tugged weakly at her arm, but barely had the strength to get up himself.

A man’s voice rang out. “There! It’s him!”

“Thank the Maker,” said a woman.

“Cullen,” Gareth said gratefully, relief flooding his chest as the commander rushed to him. “Cassandra.”

Cassandra moved to pull Gareth’s arm around her shoulders and helped him to stand. “We were worried we’d lost you,” she said, letting him lean heavily on her. “Come. We must get you to camp before you freeze to death and check your wounds.” She paused when she saw the woman lying on the ground. “Who is she?”

“Elizabeth Greene,” he answered as he fought to support his own weight. “I believe she’s lost. She needs our help. Cullen, could you?”

“Of course, Herald,” Cullen answered and bent to cradle Liz in his arms.

Liz shivered as he heaved her up against the chest plate he wore. “S-Sorry,” she stammered through chattering teeth. She wanted to protest that he didn’t need to carry her, but she knew it was a lie. She’d never be able to continue on with as frozen as she felt.

“It’s alright,” he answered in a soft tone and followed after Cassandra and the Herald. “We’ll get you warmed up. Stay with me.”

“St-still,” she said as exhaustion pulled at her consciousness. “Sorry.” And her world went blissfully dark and silent.


	2. Chapter Two

Angry voices flitted in and out of Liz’s dreams. She knew they were arguing, but what it was about, she didn’t know. And she was too tired to care. Singing soon replaced the shouting and it seemed to lull her even more.

She finally awoke with a slight groan as she shifted on a cot. The blanket slipped on her shoulder and she jumped slightly as someone’s hand tugged it back up. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the last bit of sleep that seemed to cling to her vision. A man sat by her bedside, his hand carefully smoothing the blanket back in place. “Do not be alarmed,” he said softly. “I was only looking in on you. How do you feel?”

“Cold. Tired,” Liz answered truthfully. There was something different about this man, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. He had a long, narrow face and high cheekbones, his head shaved clean. “Where am I?”

“You’re safe,” he reassured her. “You are lucky that the Herald found you. I fear you would not have survived out there on your own.” He pulled his hand back and studied her for a moment. “Do you truly not know where you are? How you got here?”

She frowned and tried to remember. “I was in a shop with my friend. I tripped and fell. The next thing I knew I was in that cave… mine… thing,” she rambled, gesturing dismissively with her hand. She chewed the inside corner of her mouth as she looked beyond the man sitting next to her. Tents were set up, soldiers moving about, others huddling around little campfires. It was all so strange to her. “I have to figure out how to get home,” she said and started to sit up.

His hands on her shoulders halted her movement and she was surprised at the strength she felt as he firmly pushed her to lay back down. “You need rest,” he insisted. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere just yet.”

Liz was too tired and cold to argue. Still, she was grateful for the thick, warm blanket that lay over her and the walls of the tent shielded her from most of the wind, which had thankfully died down. “You still haven’t told me where I am,” she said.

“You are in the mountains outside of Haven, or what used to be Haven,” he corrected himself. A frown crossed his lips at the confusion he could see in her eyes. “You’re in Fereldan,” he tried again. When that didn’t spark any recognition in her eyes, he felt his curiosity pique. “Thedas?” he tried once more.

“Whoosh!” she said, and waved her hand over her own head. “I don’t recognize any of the places you’re talking about.” True worry seemed to wrap around her heart for the first time. She looked at him intensely, tipping her head. “Am I even still in the US?” she asked, almost wishing that he wouldn’t answer.

It was his turn to give her a look of uncertainty. “I am afraid I am unfamiliar with this place you speak of,” he finally answered. He schooled his expression and stood. “I should inform Commander Cullen and Lady Cassandra that you are awake.”

Liz reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him. He paused and looked curiously at her. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” she said.

“Solas,” he answered and gently withdrew his hand from hers.

She rolled to lay flat on her back as he left, trying to understand what was going on. How had she ended up here? She still didn’t understand where exactly “here” was, either. It all made her head hurt. She had to get back, had to find a way to return home. A knot formed in her throat as she thought of her children. Would she see them again? _‘What if I’m trapped here forever?’_ she thought to herself. No, that thought was too painful to bear.

“You’re awake.”

Liz turned to the man who spoke to her. “Am I?” she asked. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

He gave a soft chuckle and moved to crouch next to her cot. “A fair question, considering the unusual circumstances of your arrival. Solas informs me that you are somewhat lost,” he said.

“Somewhat lost? I think that’s the understatement of the year,” she grumbled. She sighed and gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just really confused about all of this.” Her eyes widened slightly in recognition. “You’re the one who carried me down the mountain.”

“I am,” he answered. “Cullen Rutherford, at your service.” He gave her a slight smile as he tipped his head in greeting. “Your name is Elizabeth?”

“Liz,” she said. She couldn’t help but to be amused at the way he introduced himself. She’d only ever heard such introductions in movies. She pushed herself to sit up and brushed her hair out of her face. A shiver shook her shoulders as the blanket slipped and she pulled it back up tightly around her. “So, ah, I really need to find a way to get home. I have work I can’t miss. And I need to get back to my kids…” She trailed off and sighed through her nose. “I don’t suppose you have any suggestions?”

“Not at present,” he answered. “Everything is chaos at the moment. We ourselves don’t know what our next move is. If there is a way to return you to your home, we will help you find it.” He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and shifted his weight slightly. A look of concern crossed his face. “You mention children. Were they with you when you came here? Should we search for them?”

Liz shook her head. “No, they’re with my mother,” she answered. “Thank the gods. They’re safe. I just have to find a way to get back to them.” She covered her face with her hands and rested her elbows on her knees. “I don’t want to be a burden. That Gareth mentioned that you all were attacked. Something about a dragon? It sounds like you have bigger problems to deal with than me.” She scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. “Fucking dragons. I thought they were just myth. I feel like my brain is melting.”

Cullen chuckled again. “They’re quite real, I assure you.” He reached out and touched her wrist, gently lowering her hand from her face. “It’s no burden. You’re welcome to join us until we can get everything sorted out. Once we regroup and get settled, we’ll figure out a way to get you home.”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she said quietly. His hand still rested on her wrist and she felt a strange swooping sensation in her stomach. _‘Good gods, I’m delirious,’_ she thought to herself. She met his golden brown eyes and managed a small smile for him.

Cullen realized he was still touching her arm and he quickly pulled his hand back. He cleared his throat and stood. “I have other matters to attend to before I retire for the night,” he said and looked out over the camp, rubbing the back of his neck. “Try to rest and stay warm. I’ll see what we can do about getting you a proper coat before we set out in the morning.”

 _‘You could keep me warm,’_ she thought, then mentally smacked herself. Deciding it was best to let him leave before she opened her mouth and made a fool of herself, Liz nodded and turned to lay with her back to him. Her face felt hot and she was suddenly glad for the cold air.

Cullen looked at her, feeling as though he should say something more, but nothing came to him. His own face felt a bit warm as he stepped out of her tent. He felt for her, being lost as she was, but now without Haven, it would seem they were all a bit lost. He could not let himself become distracted from his duties or they would all suffer. “We need a plan,” he said as he approached the others. He silently prayed that another shouting match didn’t ensue. He didn’t know if he had the strength for it now.

“The Herald says Solas has a plan,” Cassandra answered as she turned to him. “We are to head north at first light. Where we are going, Solas did not say. But the Herald trusts him and I do not see where we have any other options. It should only take a few days if we are lucky.”

“Travel will be slow. We have many that are injured. And we will be vulnerable. Pray we do not run into any more trouble,” he said.

* * *

 

Morning came all too soon for Liz. Someone had placed a leather coat next to her cot and her purse sat beneath it. She quickly shrugged the coat on before the cold could get to her. It was a bit snug, but she wasn’t in a position to complain. Really, she thought she’d have squeezed into anything they offered at that point. She rummaged in her purse and nearly sobbed in relief to see the packs of cigarettes at the bottom. She quickly shook one out and lit it before she ventured out of the tent.

The sun was just creeping over the horizon, but already the camp was bustling with activity. People were packing up tents, saddling horses, and packing supplies onto what could only be described as huge rhinos. “The hell?” Liz breathed as she stared at them. She took a final long drag on her cigarette, then crushed it beneath her heel and started forward, looking for someone she recognized.

“Solas!” she called when she saw him. “What are those… those…” she stumbled over her words now that she saw him in the daylight. Her eyes traveled up to the tips of his long pointed ears and she completely forgot her question. “Are you… I mean… are you an elf?”

Solas squared his shoulders and held his head a little higher as he looked at her. “I am,” he answered stiffly. “Is that a problem for you?” He narrowed his eyes slightly at the way she looked at him. “Yes, just stare at the knife-ear.”

She blinked at him. “Knife-ear?” she asked. “I don’t know what you mean. What does knife-ear mean?” It was as if she could feel his disapproval growing with her every word. “I didn’t have a problem,” she said hesitantly. “I’ve just never seen a real elf before.” She rubbed at her forehead with the heel of her hand. The closest she’d ever come to seeing a real elf was Orlando Bloom in prosthetic ears and a blonde wig. Realizing she was being rude, she dropped her hand. “Eh, sorry. It’s just, well, back home we only have humans. I didn’t mean to gawk.”

An awkward silence fell between them and she realized she’d offended him. She chewed her lip and shifted her weight, unsure of what to say. “I should be going,” she said quickly and hurried away from him, mentally kicking herself. _‘That’s just great, stupid. Yes, let’s piss of the guy who was nice enough to look after your unconscious ass.’_ She was so lost in scolding herself, she didn’t pay attention to where she was walking. That is, until she walked straight into a wall. Or, she thought it was a wall. Until it spoke.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

Liz stumbled backwards and gasped at the man before her. He was huge, with pale grey skin and an eye patch over his left eye. But it was the big black horns that protruded from either side of his head that frightened her. Her mouth moved like a fish out of water as she took another step back. What was he?!

His demeanor relaxed immediately as he looked at her and he gave her a roguish grin. “Never mind,” he smiled. “You can bump into me any time you like.” He tipped his head at her, not liking the obvious fear he saw in her eyes. “Hey, seriously, you’re okay. I thought you were one of these assholes running around like they know where we’re heading and are in such a hurry to get there. Relax. It’s not like I’m going to hurt you.” He paused and chuckled, “Unless that’s something you’re into.”

“I… I’m…” Liz stammered, still dumbstruck by the man before her. If he could even be considered a man.

“There you are.”

“Cullen!” she gasped in relief as she turned to see him approaching.

“We are almost prepared to depart,” he said. He looked between Liz’s frightened face and Bull’s amused one, then sighed. “I trust you’re not giving her a hard time, Bull.”

“Hey, she’s the one who ran into me,” he answered good-naturedly. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” A smirk crossed his lips. “You know I got a thing for redheads.” He gave Cullen a sweeping look and couldn’t stop himself. “Although I could have a thing for blonde Templars if you’re interested.”

“Maker’s breath… NO.” He turned away as Bull threw his head back and laughed loudly. “Gather your men and prepare to leave, Bull. We’ll head out shortly.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and gave Liz a sheepish look. “I apologize for him. He… doesn’t know when to stop.”

Liz stared after the big man as he turned and started giving orders. “That’s okay,” she said quietly. “Who… er… what is he?” She felt her face burn slightly, hoping Cullen didn’t think she was rude like Solas had.

“A Qunari,” Cullen answered. He tipped his head slightly in interest. “Have you never seen someone like him before?”

“No,” she answered. “And I pissed off Solas because I’ve never seen an elf before,” she said with a gesture in Solas’ direction. She felt very out of her element. “This is all so new to me. It’s… very different than back home.”

Cullen couldn’t help but to wonder what sort of a land she’d come from if she’d never met an elf before. He wanted to ask her more about her home, but she was so visibly shaken, he thought it best to save that conversation for another time. “He does appear intimidating, even if you’ve seen one of his kind before. But don’t worry. He’s on our side. He won’t hurt you.” He chuckled as he walked. “And there are times I think Solas is offended by everything. Do not worry about him either.”

Liz gave a quick nod and fell into step beside Cullen. She could see Solas ahead of them now and the man she’d met in the cavern leading the way. “I’m just making friends left, right, and center,” she said quietly as she clung to the straps of her purse, looking down at her feet as she walked. She squinted her eyes against the bright light that reflected off the snow. “Thank you for the coat, by the way.”

“You can thank Cassandra,” he answered. “She’s the one who managed to find one for you.” At Liz’s questioning look, he pointed to the Seeker. “She’s not the friendliest person you could meet, but her heart is in the right place.” He was glad to have someone to speak with while they traveled. It let him think of something besides their losses at Haven, an issue he knew he would have to address soon. But for the moment, his mind welcomed the distraction. “Let’s see,” he said and glanced around. “That’s Dorian. He’s a mage from Tevinter.”

“A mage?” she asked.

Cullen blinked at her curiously. She really didn’t know anything about this world. “Well at least we won’t run out of topics to discuss.”

* * *

 

They spent the next several hours discussing at length Thedas, the people in it, and more importantly, the inner circle of the Inquisition and what their purpose was. Liz found herself fascinated with it all. It was so different than anything she’d ever experienced before, even in her books and movies she loved so much. _‘Damn you, Tolkien,_ ’ she kept thinking to herself every time she learned a new bit of information that didn’t fit what she thought she already knew.

“Okay, so let me see if I got this straight. Varric is the dwarf with the crossbow,” she said, nodding over at the storyteller. “And Bianca is the elven archer?” she asked, nodding to the blonde elf across the way.

“Maker, no,” Cullen groaned and covered his face with his hand. “Bianca is the name Varric gave his crossbow. The archer is Sera.” Thank the Maker Sera hadn’t heard that. He could only imagine what sort of pranks he’d endure as retaliation. A tiny smile played across his lips. “Perhaps it’s best if you just say hello and not try to use anyone’s name when you get the chance to meet them.”

“Hey, I’m trying!” she protested and playfully whacked his arm with the back of her hand. She instantly regretted it as she hit his armor and pain zinged through her fingers. “Ouch! Dammit!” she cried and sucked her fingers.

Cullen’s eyes went wide and he reached for her hand, gently pulling it from her mouth. He frowned at the redness on her fingers and he soothed his thumb over them. “You fell and wound up in a cavern. You nearly froze to death on the mountain. And now this,” he said softly. “Elizabeth Greene, I think you may be one of the most accident prone people I’ve ever met.”

Liz felt a pleasant squirming in her stomach at his touch, even though his hands were clad in well-worn leather gloves. She couldn’t help but to wonder what his touch would feel like without them. “I don’t mean to be clumsy,” she said softly as she met his eyes. She was once again struck by how handsome he was and she felt her breath catch in her chest.

A scream rent the air and Cullen turned abruptly, drawing his sword. His eyes widened when he saw the brilliant green light dancing in the sky ahead of them and he didn’t need to hear Cassandra’s call of warning to know what it was. “Demons,” he growled. “Stay back!” he ordered her and rushed forward to throw himself into the fray.

Chaos seemed to erupt around her as some of the people panicked and others rushed forward to help with the fight. The huge pack animals snorted and stomped as their masters tried to control and calm the beasts. Fear seized her chest and she went stiff as a poker, prepared to run out of the way of those massive animals if need be. She heard the Iron Bull bellowing at his Chargers to attack and her eyes were drawn to the fight. There were more of the hovering green apparitions like the ones she’d seen in the cavern. But alongside them stood great towering figured that reminded her of the grim reaper. “The bloody fucking hell is going on?” she gasped. She turned and grabbed the arm of the closest person to her. “What are those?!”

“Demons,” the woman answered with a heavy accent. “I thought I heard the commander explaining that to you just a moment ago?”

Liz blinked and lessened her hold on the silky gold sleeve of the other woman. “That… wasn’t what I pictured when I thought of demons,” she answered as she stared at the fight again. “I thought those things were ghosts when I saw them in the cavern.” Both women quickly sidestepped as a frightened horse broke free and ran past them.

Curiosity took Liz then and she started forward, wanting to see the creatures up close. Even from where she was, the din of the fighting was deafening. Shouting, roaring, metal clanging, explosions and shattering ice. She made a mental note not to get too close as she approached the fight. She saw Cullen slashing his sword and blocking with his shield as one of the hooded demons towered over him. Ice suddenly struck the creature and it froze; Cullen shattered it with his sword the next instant.

He stood, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he found the area around him free of demons. A proud sort of little smirk pulled at his lips as he turned and caught her eye. It vanished an instant later as he began to give out orders, trying to calm everyone around him.

“Are you alright?” he called out as he walked back towards her. He hadn’t realized that she’d followed him, that she’d been that close to the skirmish. He barely glanced over his shoulder as the Herald stepped forward and raised his mark towards the rift in the sky. A loud humming buzzed through the air, followed by an ear-shattering crack as the rift closed.

A terrified bronto broke free from its master and charged, barreling past the other warriors. Liz’s eyes went wide with fright and without thinking, she threw herself at the commander. “Cullen, look out!” she screamed as she grabbed his shoulders and they fell. Her foot caught on a rock and she twisted, landing on her back in the snow, pulling him down with her.

Cullen barely had time to react, throwing his arms out in front of him just in time to stop himself from crushing her beneath him. “I-I… I’m…” he stammered, meaning to apologize, but was so flustered in that moment that he couldn’t seem to find the right words. His face burned and he quickly pushed himself to sit on his knees and pulled her to sit. “Are you alright?”

“You keep asking me that,” she groaned and rubbed the back of her head. She winced slightly at the headache that now radiated through her skull. “I’m okay,” she finally said. She met his warm eyes with concern in her own. “Are you?”

“Thanks to you,” he answered. He quickly stood and turned to his men. “Stop that beast before it kills someone!” he ordered. He reached out a hand and helped Liz to her feet. “At this rate, we’ll never recover from Haven. Maker’s breath,” he cursed and walked away to speak to the Herald of Andraste about settling everyone and getting back on course.

Liz hung back, trying to stay out of the way as she watched him work. She supposed she should’ve been frightened at such a close call, but all she could think about was the way her body tingled as if she could still feel his weight on top of her. _‘You’re an idiot,’_ a little voice chimed in the back of her mind. _‘Don’t you start thinking like that. Men are nothing but trouble. Remember what the last one did to you.’_

Oh, she remembered. She remembered it a little too well. And she’d promised herself to never make that mistake again. And yet she couldn’t stop her eyes from following him as he worked. He glanced her direction again and met her eyes. Her face flushed with embarrassment at being caught watching him and she slapped a hand to her face and turned away, using her hand as a blinder to hide. “Goddess, help me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taking me a minute to update. I'm still a bit new to the Dragon Age world and I'm trying very hard to keep everyone in character. So, yeah, bear with me. ^_^ Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter Three

Liz was grateful when they finally stopped to make camp for the night. Her feet ached terribly and her stomach growled with hunger. She hadn’t seen much of Cullen the rest of the day. After that incident, he seemed much more concerned with keeping order and making sure that nothing more chaotic happened on their journey.

She was unsure of who to ask for direction on where she might find a bite to eat or where she was supposed to sleep. She stood there, looking rather out of place, when a voice called out to her. She turned and saw the dwarf Varric waving her over to the campfire he sat next to. The Iron Bull was with him, and the mage Cullen had identified as Dorian. She gave them a timid smile and sat down to hold her hands out to the fire. “Hi,” she said, feeling a bit nervous. She graciously accepted the wooden bowl of stew Bull offered her and she cradled it in her hands, letting the steam curl up around her face.

“So the rumors are already flying about you,” Varric said as he watched her. “Where you came from. What you’re doing here. How you got here. Care to shed some light on that?”

Liz sipped carefully from the bowl before she lowered it and thought over her answer. “I don’t really know how I got here,” she answered. “I was in a shop and I fell, the next thing I knew, I woke up here.” She stirred the stew around with her spoon and took bigger bite, relishing in the heat that warmed her stomach. “I’m from a small town in Missouri. That’s in the United States. But no one around here seems to have heard of it. So…” She shrugged, staring at the soup in her hands. “And the only thing I’m doing is trying to figure out a way to get home.”

“Well that’s a new one,” Varric said as he sat back a bit. Already his mind was ablaze with new story ideas. “So you’re not even from Thedas?” He frowned when she shook her head.

“Pay up,” Bull said and extended his hand to Varric. “I told you she had to be from somewhere else.”

Liz watched as Varric sighed and reached into his pocket, then slapped a coin into Bull’s hand. “Did Solas tell you that?” she asked curiously. She’d seen very little of the elf that day and she suspected he was keeping his distance from her.

“He didn’t have to,” Bull answered. “Your clothes are weird and I’ve never heard your accent before. Plus you got that scared look in your eye like you’re afraid of everything around you. And I overheard you ask Cullen what I am. Most people in Thedas know a Qunari when they see one.”

“Well yay for me for sticking out like a sore thumb,” she muttered sarcastically and looked down at the bowl in her hands again. She chewed the inside of her cheek, barely noticing when the coppery taste of blood hit her tongue. She could only imagine what the people here thought of her.

“Nothing wrong with being noticed,” Dorian stated. He puffed up a bit and gave her a smile. “Everyone always notices me. I find I rather like the attention.”

“Not everyone’s like you, Sparkler,” Varric reminded him.

Dorian ignored him. “So tell us about your home. I’m curious to hear about this far-off land you claim to be from.” He looked at her with interest as he made himself comfortable, leaning back against a log behind him. “What do you do there?”

“Ah, I’m a nurse aid,” she answered. “I work at a nursing home.” She realized they didn’t know what she meant. “I take care of the elderly who can’t take care of themselves anymore. Their families bring them there and we give them shelter, prepare their meals, give them their medications. Everything they can’t do.”

“Like a healer,” Dorian provided.

“Erm, sort of,” she answered. She wondered how many thing she was going to have to try to explain to them. Her mind went reeling as she thought about how to explain the things in her world. How to tell them about cars, cell phones, the internet? Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t fully aware herself how all those things worked. She just used them. “I think a doctor is closer to a healer,” she finally said. “I’m like, bottom rung on the ladder. I wanted to be a nurse, someone higher up that does more important work, but I couldn’t get into the school for it. Assholes think you have to master algebra for some stupid reason.” She gave a dismissive wave. “I’m sure this is all boring for you.”

“Not at all,” he answered. “It’s fascinating. I am most curious as to how to came into our world. Was it a rift? Did you somehow travel through the fade, just as Gareth did? So many questions,” he said, his voice going soft with thought.

“Not enough answers,” Liz replied as she dug in her purse and pulled out the pack of cigarettes. She hadn’t had one since that morning; hiking and smoking at the same time didn’t work so well. She lit one and dropped the lighter and pack back into her purse.

Dorian raised his eyebrow curiously. “I was not aware that you are a mage.”

She giggled. “I’m not. I didn’t know magic was real until I came here.”

“I just watched you light that… whatever it is… with your bare hand,” he argued.

“Huh? Oh!” she said, realizing that in the near darkness it must have appeared that way to someone who’d never seen a lighter before. She grabbed it out of her purse and showed it to him. “It’s a cigarette lighter. No magic. Just, you know, science, I guess?” She flicked it a few times, showing him how it worked before she handed it to him.

“Odd little contraption,” he commented, turning the pink cylinder over in his fingers.

Bull wasn’t interested in the lighter. Instead, his eye was drawn to the cigarette she held between her fingers, her cheeks hallowing slightly as she wrapped her lips around it, and particularly the way the smoke drifted from her mouth as she exhaled slowly. “Watch yourself, Red,” he warned. “You might end up with more of that attention than you bargained for.”

Liz opened her mouth, but Varric cut across her before she could speak. “Red? That’s the best you can come up with?” he chuckled. “Surely you can do better than that.”

Bull gave Varric an annoyed look. “You think you can do better? The nickname you gave me wasn’t exactly what I would call creative, Varric.”

“Ah, but the irony,” Varric replied slyly. “Just like Chuckles. Sometimes you have to find a nickname that fits, and other times it’s more fitting to choose something completely opposite to their character.”

“And in this case, Red works. She’s a redhead. It’s obvious,” Bull deadpanned.

“Exactly!” Varric argued. “It’s too obvious! You gotta delve deeper, Tiny.”

Dorian flicked the lighter a few more times, amused by it as the little flame burst to life every time. He finally set it aside. “By that reasoning, Bull, he should’ve called you Horny. For _obvious_ reasons.” He turned his attention to Liz, who just sat quietly and smoked her cigarette. “Don’t know why you’re so impressed, Bull. It’s not so hard.” He opened his mouth and conjured up a thick smoke that curled from his lips.

“Well I wasn’t doing it to impress anyone,” Liz answered. Really, it was just because her nerves still felt fried and the nicotine that zinged through her system brought her a great comfort. She scowled slightly as Dorian began blowing perfect smoke rings. “Okay, now you’re just showing off,” she said and reached over to break the ring of smoke with her finger. She giggled and shied away at the look he shot her.

“Rude,” he gasped, but the playful smirk on his lips betrayed his tone.

“Both of you better stop before I drag you into my tent,” Bull warned in a low, lusty tone.

Liz went as red as her hair and looked away from them all while Dorian snorted indignantly. She ignored the loud laugh from Varric and decided to change the subject. “So, Dorian,” she said, a bit too loudly over Varric’s laughter, “Where are you from?”

They spent the evening chatting together, Dorian going on and on about himself, which Liz didn’t mind at all. She found him a bit boastful, but so dashingly charming that she couldn’t help but to hang on his every word. And it was near impossible to stop herself from flirting with him, which he rather seemed to enjoy. Bull was more interested in hearing about Liz and kept asking her questions about her home. She did the best she could to explain things to them without being too confusing. And Varric kept them all entertained with his tales until Liz began to nod. She thanked them for their company and politely excused herself to go find somewhere to sleep.

“So what do you think, Tiny?” Varric asked as he watched her go. “You think she’s telling the truth?”

“Either she’s telling the truth, or she’s the best damn liar I’ve ever met and she’s got a better imagination than you do,” Bull answered. “And I seriously doubt that.”

“She seemed alright to me,” Dorian quipped. “Not the best dressed perhaps, but then I do set a rather high bar.” He got to his feet and brushed the dirt off his pants. “Now if you gentlemen are done analyzing that poor woman, I will bid you goodnight.”

“What, not interested in sitting around gossiping all night, Sparkler?” Varric asked with a chuckle.

“Certainly not. Especially if the conversation’s not about me,” he answered and strode off.

“Pompous Tevinter asshole,” Bull growled.

“I heard that, you unwashed barbarian!”

* * *

 

“Shite. Shite. Rubbish. Shite. Oh! What’s this? Oh look. _More_ shite.”

Liz stirred from her sleep at the loud voice in her tent. “Wha?” she muttered sleepily as she sat up and rubbed at her eyes. She felt wide awake the next moment as she saw her purse nearly emptied at the foot of her bedroll, the blonde elf rummaging carelessly through it. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“ _Trying_ to see if the rumors are _true_ ,” the elf answered as if it were obvious. She sat back on her heels and frowned as she tossed the empty bag aside. “Thought for sure you’d have somethin’ interestin’ in there, what with you being from a whole different world an’ all. I mean, what is all this shite anyway?” she asked and reached for a small, slender box.

“My phone,” Liz answered and reached over to swipe it out of her hand. A sudden thought struck her and she turned it on, but frowned when there were no bars of service. Not that she really expected there to be, but the thought had given her the tiniest bit of hope. She turned it back off to save the battery; for what, she didn’t know.

“Oh, yeah, cause that explains it,” the elf grumbled sarcastically. “An’ what’s this? You call this a knife?” she asked, picking up the sheathed blade that had tumbled out of Liz’s purse. “What’re you planning to do with that? Murder nugs in their sleep? You could barely butter bread with this piece of shite.”

“It’s just something I carry with me, just in case,” Liz answered as she got to her knees and started to place her belongings back in the purse. Some makeup she rarely wore, her wallet with money she assumed was useless here, band aids, car keys, cigarettes, a taser (which she briefly considered using on the elf), and the knife that had been deemed rather pathetic. She shoved it all back in the bag and frowned as she realized she had practically nothing useful on her. She looked at the elf, trying very hard to remember her name. “You’re Sera?” she asked carefully.

“Yeah. And you’re Liz… Lizzie… whatever. I can call you Lizzie, right?” Sera answered.

“Eh,” Liz hesitated. “I prefer Liz.”

“Right. Lizzie it is then,” Sera said as she got to her feet and brushed her hands together. “Come on, then. The _commander_ ,” she said, drawing out the word, “is already out there barking orders at everyone. Wants everyone packed up and ready to move. That means your tent, missy. Better hurry, too, I think some of them are already moving off.”

“Wait, what?” Liz scrambled after Sera as the elf left the tent. “But I don’t know how to…” She huffed and blew a piece of hair out of her face as Sera disappeared into the crowd. “Goddammit.” She turned to the tent, which had far too many ropes and wooden poles for her liking, even if it was a small one. It was nothing like the tents she’d ever slept in back home.

“Hey Smoky, you need some help?” Varric called out when he saw her struggling to take it apart. He trotted over and chuckled at the frustration he could see on her face. “Camping not your forte, huh?”

“I know how to camp,” she answered, unable to take the bite out of her voice. “But this is different than what we have back home. It’s so damn bulky.”

“You get your bedroll, I’ll take down the tent.”

Liz was grateful for his help, even if it made her feel inadequate. She stood back with her bedroll under her arm and watched as he quickly packed up the tent for her. “Thanks,” she muttered as he carried it over to a wagon and set it in the back. Now that she didn’t feel quite as stressed, she realized what he’d called her. “Did you call me Smoky?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I think it suits you.”

“Because I got in a smoke-blowing competition with Dorian last night?” she asked, not entirely sure she liked her new nickname.

“More than that,” he said cryptically, but didn’t elaborate. He gestured for her to follow him. “We’d better get going before we get left behind. I doubt Chuckles would miss either one of us very much.”


	4. Chapter Four

If there was one thing Liz hated, it was the feeling of being useless. As soon as they reached Skyhold, it seemed as if everyone had a job to do and they all quickly set to work without a moment’s hesitation. It bothered her to not search for a way home, but now was not the time. Not until things settled, at least. But she refused to just sit around and feel sorry for herself. So she did the one thing she was good at – taking care of other people.

Liz was no healer, but she did what she could to make the injured soldiers comfortable. She found them blankets within Skyhold and brought them water to drink. It surprised her that the healers didn’t question her, but she supposed that they just appreciated any help they could get. A couple of them even included her in their work, giving her brief lessons on herbs for healing and other such things. She did her best to remember it all, writing down notes on a little notebook she kept in her purse. She didn’t want to mix something wrong and end up doing more harm than good.

But even for all their work, Liz still felt quite useless. The injured were dropping like flies, so many of them too wounded to recover. Working at the nursing home in her world was one thing. The elderly came there to die. She understood that, and she did everything she could to make the last of their days as comfortable as possible. But this was different. These men and women were so young, their lives cut short and for what? Some of them were even younger than she. That bothered her.

She sat beside one of the injured soldiers, wiping at his sweaty face with a cool rag. Infection had set into the wound in his chest, leaving him feverish. He reached a shaking hand towards the water she had beside her and she cradled his shoulders as best she could, lifting him up as she raised the ladle to his lips. He sipped thirstily until he choked and she helped him to lie back down.

“I’ll be back,” she promised softly as his coughing subsided and she got to her feet, passing the newly appointed Inquisitor. She tipped her head curiously as she caught a bit of the conversation he was having with a young man she hadn’t noticed before. How had she not noticed that hat?

“There’s someone… Hurts. It hurts. Someone make it stop hurting. Maker please…” the young man said as he withdrew a dagger from his belt. He stood perfectly still for a moment before he barely turned his head enough to look at the Inquisitor. “The healers have done all they can. It will take him hours to die. Every moment will be agony. He wants mercy. Help.”

A chill down her spine made Liz shiver. She didn’t like the feeling she got from this young man, the way he spoke, the dagger clutched in his hand. Did he intend to kill one of the injured soldiers? She stood frozen in shock as the Inquisitor agreed and the young man knelt next to the feverish soldier. Her heart stopped. The bucket of water slipped from her fingers and she found her feet the next moment, running towards them. “STOP!”

The young man stood and looked at her, his eyes full of surprise. She skidded to a stop with a gasp of horror. The soldier was dead. She rounded on the young man. “The hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted and shoved him harshly. “You killed him!”

He stumbled back a step. “He was hurting,” he answered simply. “He wanted the hurt to stop. So I made it stop.” He stared at her in confusion and his eyes widened. “But now you hurt. Heart pounding, I am lost. The soldier, I cared for him, sat with him. Tried to make him better. Doing what little I could to help. Trying to make myself useful. I need to find a way home.”

For just an instant, Liz forgot her anger. Hearing her own thoughts spoken aloud by someone she’d never met before left her reeling. She gave a sharp shake of her head and the anger returned. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded, her eyes burning.

“I’m Cole,” he answered.

“Well, _Cole,_ you just stay the hell away from these people!” she spat. She was vaguely aware of the eyes on her, the scene she was making. She didn’t care. “I was helping him! We were trying to save him!” She wiped angrily at her eyes. “Damn you.” She drew a shaking breath and turned towards the Inquisitor. “And you! You didn’t even try to stop him! You let him do it!”

“The man was dying, Liz,” Gareth answered. She was surprised he even remembered her name. “Cole is here to help. There was nothing more that anyone could do for him. He was suffering. Isn’t it more merciful to end his life now than to let him linger on in pain?”

“You don’t know that,” she hissed. “We might’ve pulled him through. He might have made it. He had a _chance_.” She gave Cole another hateful glare. “And you just took that from him.”

“He had given up already. I want to help and I did, but my actions caused you pain.” He frowned and put away his dagger as he considered her. The frown on his face became more pronounced. “You. I cannot help you. You are different. Not of this world. I do not know how to get you home. Why is he reading my thoughts, he needs to stop. Will my children be alright without me? Will mother turn them against me? What will she say? I don’t want her to tell lies. I want to help until I find a way home.” He blinked a moment, as if coming from a daze. “I am sorry, I took from you what was making you happy. I will not do it again.”

Liz didn’t know whether to be frightened by him or to stand in awe of him. “You… I… how did you…” she sputtered. Her expression turned fierce again the next moment and she pointed a shaking finger at his nose. “You’re damn right you won’t. I catch you around these people again, and you’ll be the one hurting next time.” Without giving him a chance to answer, she stormed away, kicking her bucket ahead of her, grumbling curses under her breath. Her face felt hot and she wiped at the tears that blurred her vision. How dare he just take that soldier’s life after she’d worked so hard to help him? “Stupid little son of a bitch,” she growled, almost choking on the words. She kicked the bucket again. “Is that how they do things? People hurt so yes, let’s just kill them. I… oh!” she gasped as she kicked the bucket again and it sailed farther than she meant for it to, smacking into Cullen’s leg as he stood leaning over a table.

Cullen jumped as the bucket hit his leg and he spun around, ready to snap at whatever poor recruit had chosen to run into him. “Who-?! Oh,” he said, his expression of anger turning to one of surprise. His temper really was getting the better of him the past few days. “Elizabeth. I didn’t see you there.” Concern crossed his features next as he looked at the state of her, her already wild hair a mess, the redness around her eyes making them vividly green as tears streamed down her face. “What’s happened? Are you alright?”

As if she didn’t feel bad as it was, now this. “I’m fine,” she lied and strode forward to scoop up the bucket. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I’m sorry.” She hugged her arms around the bucket, which strangely somehow brought her some small amount of comfort. She curled her fingers over the edge of it, not even noticing the way it dampened the front of her dirty shirt. “Actually, no. That’s a lie. I’m furious. That Cole… whoever he is, he killed the soldier I was taking care of. Said the man was dying and suffering. He thought he was helping by killing him!” She had to swallow harshly, her voice cracking with emotion. She met Cullen’s eyes with a fierce gaze. “Is that how things are done here? You just kill someone if they’re in pain? Don’t even give them a chance?”

“N-No,” he answered quickly, surprised at the information. “No, that’s not how we do things here. The healers usually try to do everything they can for the sick and injured. You know that, surely. After all the time you’ve spent working with them.”

“Well that’s what I thought! And then he just… just…” She made a sweeping motion with her arm as her lips trembled. A thick knot formed in her throat that she couldn’t swallow. She met his eyes with a demanding gaze. “Are you going to do something about this? That boy is a killer! Someone needs to do something before he kills anyone else!”

“Is the Inquisitor aware of what happened? It was his decision to let Cole stay.” Cullen wasn’t entirely sure he agreed with that decision. No one truly knew what Cole was, what his intentions were. If he was a danger to the Inquisition, Cullen would have to speak to Gareth about it.

“Yes! He _let_ him do it! He stood by while it happened. Told Cole to end the man’s suffering,” she answered, fighting hard to prevent her voice from cracking. She brushed the tears from her cheeks.

“I see. I will not question the Inquisitor’s judgment on this,” Cullen answered. “If he thought what Cole did was for the best, then I support his decision. There are times where there is nothing more you can do. It is merciful to end their suffering.”

Liz blinked at him. “So it is how you people do things here,” she said, a tone of disgust in her voice. She pressed her lips to a thin line. “Then I don’t know why I’m wasting my fucking time. I should be looking for a way home instead of helping these soldiers if all ya’ll are gonna do is kill ‘em off. Hey! I know! Why don’t we just go kill them all now? It’d save a lot of suffering, don’tcha think?!” She slammed her bucket on the ground in her frustration.

Cullen was taken aback by her outburst. “Not if they stand a chance of survival. I’m certain the Inquisitor wouldn’t have let Cole end that soldier’s life if there was hope of him pulling through.” He frowned at how distraught she looked. It unsettled him, made him concerned. And though he didn’t know her well, he felt the impulse to comfort her. “I know you care about the men you’re helping. It’s obvious to everyone. But you can’t save them all,” he said, his voice gentle.

“Well I can damn well try!” she shot back, her frustration and pain growing by the moment. “But I can’t keep trying if someone’s just going to come along behind me and undo my work! I… I can’t…” She choked on her words as a sob escaped her. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, fighting to stop the tears. “Don’t any of you understand that?”

“Elizabeth,” he said softly and reached to place a hand on her shoulder. Maker, he was never good at this sort of thing. A sympathetic frown crossed his lips as she lowered her hands and looked at him with bloodshot eyes. “You mustn’t let it get to you so. It is a trying time for all of us. Opening yourself up to even more hurt than necessary only makes it worse.”

“How am I supposed to care for them without caring about them?” she countered, searching his eyes as if he held the answer. “I can’t do that. It’s not in me to be like that. I will never be one of those people. Someone who can treat it like it’s just a job. It’s more than that. It should be more than that!” She stepped away from him and her shoulder suddenly felt cold at the absence of his touch. She grabbed up her bucket again. “Excuse me. I have work to do. You know, before any of you decide to kill off more of those men. I should beat you with my bucket.”

Cullen was left speechless as she stomped off. He wanted to go after her, to somehow calm her. But he thought it best to give her some space. He had the distinct feeling that nothing he did in that moment would help. It might even make things worse. He sighed as she disappeared around the corner towards the well. How she had managed to capture his attention so, he didn’t know. He admired the way she cared about people she barely knew, the passion he could see in her eyes even if she did come across as a bit intimidating. He shook his head and turned back to the table, leaning heavily on it as he stared at the paperwork before him. The words were a blur on the page and all he could see was the hurt in her eyes. The accusation in her expression. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Andraste, preserve me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to jlcamp09 for helping me with this chapter. She writes a much better Cole than I do! Thank you to everyone for the kudos, bookmarks, and comments! You don't know how happy that makes me.


	5. Chapter Five

Liz sat on her front porch in the semi-darkness, enjoying the near silence of the night. The late spring air was warm and perfectly still, lightly perfumed by the spirea bushes that grew unkempt in her front yard. From across the road she could just barely hear the country music playing on the radio, though the low thrum of her neighbor’s air conditioner seemed to mask what song actually played. She loved nights like this. Everything around her was so peaceful, serene almost.

She dragged on her cigarette, illuminating her features in a brief orange glow as she stared across the road at the cul-de-sac. Or, to be more accurate, the big diamond shaped sign at its entrance. The yellow was dulled after years in the sun and the edges were rusted. Dead End. “Like I need the reminder,” she muttered to herself before she exhaled a stream of smoke that hung heavy on the air. She scooted her bare feet on the dirty floorboards of the porch, wiggling her toes into the soft fur of her dog who lay beneath her table. He turned his head to sniff her ankle, then laid his head back down with a “hmph.” But the next moment, he thumped his tail loudly on the porch and stood, nearly knocking her table over as he was so tall.

“Dammit, Zero!” she scolded, grabbing the edges of the table to keep it from falling. “Lay down!”

The big German shepherd mix didn’t listen to her. Instead he trotted happily across the porch to greet the stranger who stood there. Liz gasped as she saw the man she hadn’t noticed before, but relaxed the next moment. “Solas,” she said, a bit breathless as she slapped a hand over her heart. “You startled me.”

It was his turn to look surprised. “I was not aware that you would notice my presence here,” he said, looking at her with interest. “I did not intend to frighten you.”

“Well you’re standing not ten feet away from me. I was bound to notice you at some point,” she replied dryly. Her eyes went wide as Zero jumped up and placed his big paws on Solas’ chest. “Zero, no! Get down!”

Solas chuckled and ran his fingers through the black and tan fur. “He does not bother me,” he said softly and allowed the dog to lick his chin. Still standing on his back legs, Zero hooked his paws over Solas’ forearm and nuzzled into his neck, leaning heavily on the elf.

“Some guard dog you are,” Liz muttered as she got to her feet. “Zero, you’re fired.”

He merely wagged his tail.

Solas looked around with curiosity. The street lights, the houses with their neatly kept yards, many objects he didn’t recognize. Even the street itself seemed strange, like one long, continuous piece of stone, painted with yellow and white stripes. “Where are we?”

“My home,” Liz answered. She paused then as the oddity of the situation sank in. “Wait. You’re not supposed to be here. This is my world. I’m supposed to be in yours, not the other way around. Did I find my way home?”

“No, sadly,” Solas answered as he carefully dropped Zero’s paws back to the porch. “This is merely a memory. A dream. We are in the Fade.”

“Oh.” Her heart sank. It made sense. She hadn’t done anything that day to find her way home from Skyhold. She’d merely gone to bed on the straw-stuffed mattress on the floor of the little room she’d claimed for herself after spending the entire day taking care of the wounded soldiers, making sure that Cole kept his distance.

“As I said, I did not think that you would be aware of my presence. I merely meant to observe your memory, to learn more about you,” he said as he walked closer. “But since you are, perhaps you could show me more of your world. I admit my curiosity about this place.” His pale eyes looked over her clothes, the strange square shape of her bright pink top that contrasted horribly with her red hair. “Even your clothing here puzzles me.”

Liz looked down at her scrubs. “Oh, this is my work uniform,” she answered. “I work at the nursing home, just up the road there.” She pointed up the hill where the road curved towards the south. “Across from the big cemetery. Which I think is a terribly depressing place to put a nursing home.”

“They told me you work as a healer of some sort,” he said. “Although I’m not entirely sure I understand your abilities.”

“No abilities. I just… take care of people,” she answered. She was surprised that he even took an interest in her at all, especially after the way she’d reacted to discovering that he was an elf. “I could show you, if you like.” At his nod, she shooed Zero into the house and shut the door. “Come on, then. It’s not far. We can walk.”

Solas drank in the details of her world as they walked. “I am impressed with the clarity of which you remember this,” he said. “It is so vivid. Most do not remember such things. Or at least do not notice them enough to recall.”

She shrugged. “I’ve lived on this street for over eight years. I can’t count how many times I’ve walked this sidewalk. I dunno if it’s that I noticed or more if I’ve just memorized it.” They reached the top of the first hill and she pointed to a big, old Victorian house that overlooked the cemetery across the road. “My grandpa grew up in that house. I’ve never been inside it, though.” She didn’t know why she felt compelled to tell him that, but if he wanted to know what she knew about this place, she thought she might as well share.

Solas glanced at the house, but said nothing. They continued on, down a bit of a slope, then back up, past the funeral home with its big American flag in the front. A low rumble caught Solas’ ear and he turned with alarm, jumping back as two bright lights approached them with incredible speed, then continued on by without incident.

Liz turned and laughed at the look on his face. “Calm down. It’s just a car.” Her lips twitched as she tried to stop herself from laughing again at the look he gave her. “It’s a way to travel. Um, sort of like a wagon. Or a carriage. Just, you know, without the horses. It’s a machine,” she explained as best she could. “Don’t worry. As long as we stay on the sidewalk, they won’t hit us.”

“You could have warned me,” Solas said darkly as they fell into step again. The more he saw, it seemed the more questions he had instead of answers. He wondered how much of her world he could explore, discover, learn. “I must ask you something,” he finally said as she led the way down a steep drive. “If there are no elves in this world, how did you recognize me as one?”

Liz thought over her answer for a moment. She didn’t want to offend him again. “Well, elves are a myth here,” she said. “We have lots of fictional stories about them. Movies, video games. People even dress up as elves for… certain events. But there aren’t any real elves in our world. There aren’t any Qunari either, if that makes it any better. Or dwarves. Well, I mean, maybe we have dwarves? But they’re humans who just aren’t as tall as everyone else. They aren’t a different race. And we don’t call them dwarves. That’s offensive. I’m probably going to hell now for being so politically incorrect.”

Solas found it odd that a world that existed without elves could have any knowledge of them at all. “Perhaps elves did exist here once. Long ago, before recorded memory,” he mused as they reached the front door of the brick building.

“Maybe,” she answered. She paused before she opened the door. “Will they see us?”

“No,” he answered with a shake of his head. “This is just your memory. Whatever you wish to share with me.” He followed her inside when she nodded and opened the door. There was a strange scent on the air as he entered the place. It was slightly medicinal and almost unpleasant, but not quite. It made him feel a bit hopeless, which he found strange. His eyes were first drawn to the overhead lights, how they lit up the building in an unnatural way. The gleaming tiles were cold beneath his feet. He had little time to ponder any of it before he noticed the people sitting in the foyer. They were all elderly and sitting in strange chairs with big wheels on them. “These are the people you care for?”

Liz nodded, her eyes on one particularly old woman who sat hunched over in her wheelchair, a quilt in her lap and a sour expression on her face.

“Why are they here? What purpose does this place serve?”

“They’re here because they can’t take care of themselves any more. Their families bring them here so we can take care of them. Make them as comfortable as possible for the rest of their lives,” she answered. There was an affection in her eyes, a softness in her voice, yet a bitterness as well. “They come here to die.”

Solas found himself taken aback by that. “Their families do not care for them at the end of their lives?” he asked. “Why?”

“People in my world are very busy,” she answered, although she didn’t quite sound like she meant it. “They don’t have time to take care of them. It’s easier to just stick them here and forget about them. A lot of these people have families that don’t even bother to visit. It’s heartless, I know. But that’s why I do what I do. I try to make up for it, even if it isn’t the same.”

Solas caught the way she didn’t look at him as she spoke, how her eyes stayed on the woman with the quilt in her lap. “Is she particularly special to you?”

“Yes,” Liz answered quietly. “This is Erma. The meanest old lady in the whole facility. When I first started working here, she’d be right here, every day when I came in. I’d always greet her. I’d say, ‘Hi Erma! Are you having a good day?’ and she’d snap, ‘Hell no!’ I’d tell her I was sorry, that I hoped her day got better, and then I’d go on about my day. The others told me to stop, that I was wasting my time. No one here liked Erma. And then one day, I dunno. I guess I was having an off day. Cause I asked her if she was having a good day, she told me hell no, and I snapped. I just said, ‘Well good! Give ‘em hell back!’” Liz paused as a smile split her lips and she turned to look at Solas. “And you know what? That old lady _laughed_. She laughed and laughed and she was like my best friend from that day on. That became our new greeting.”

Solas slightly returned her smile. “That’s an interesting way of making a friend,” he commented. “You have a unique way of interacting with people. You care far more for strangers than most people would. I’ve seen you taking care of the wounded soldiers in Skyhold.”

She gave a nod. “I sort of took over caring for Erma on my shift. Even if I wasn’t supposed to work her hall, I’d tell the other girls to leave Erma for me. I’d make sure to leave enough time at the end of my shift to take care of her. I’d help her to the bathroom, then get her situated in her bed. I’d help her put lotion on her face and her hands, made sure she could reach her water pitcher, hand her the remote to her television so she could watch it until she fell asleep. I learned so much about her. Funny thing, she and my grandma were friends when they were young. I never knew anything about her until I worked here.” She paused and sighed sadly as she looked at the old woman. “I remember I worked a Monday evening. I put Erma to bed and she asked me if I’d be in the next day. I told her I was off for two days, but I’d see her on Thursday. She gave me a hug and told me she loved me. When I came back for my next shift, her room was empty. I asked where they moved her, and Beth told me that Erma died on Tuesday. She had a heart attack.”

Liz pressed her lips together so hard they trembled. “They were _happy_ she was gone,” she said in a fierce whisper, an anger blazing in her eyes as she looked at Solas again. “Just because they saw her as a hassle, an inconvenience.” She looked back at Erma with a sadness in her eyes. “I lost it. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried.”

“I am sorry for the loss of your friend,” he said softly, a frown on his lips. His fingers curled into his palms as an anger seemed to seep into him. “I do not understand how your people cannot care about their own. Not even their own families. What a sad place to spend the remainder of their days, forgotten and abandoned.” He looked at her then with a softer expression. “These people are lucky they have someone like you to care for them.”

“Maybe,” Liz said as the vision of Erma faded away. “Most of these girls are good workers. They care, to some extent. They do good jobs. But I’m still angry at them for the way they reacted to Erma’s death. I dunno, maybe I feel too much sometimes.”

“That is not necessarily a bad thing,” he said. The nursing home around them faded away and they once again stood on Liz’s front porch. Solas frowned. He’d intended to look around more, but it seemed she didn’t want to think about her friend or her coworkers any more in that moment. He knew that they’d started off on the wrong foot, but his curiosity about the place won out. “Might I see inside your home?”

“Sure,” she said flatly. “It’s probably a mess inside. It usually is. Sorry.” She led the way into the front room, which was scattered with brightly colored plastic toys, the totes which were supposed to hold them upended and dumped all over the floor. “Yup. Just the way it always is,” she said with a slight laugh and pushed the toys aside with her foot.

Solas nearly staggered and had to stop as a barrage of memories seemed to flash before his eyes. They were disjointed, out of order, and he barely had time to comprehend one before another took its place. It was Liz sitting in the corner of the couch, nursing a newborn, as a man about her age with black hair smiled at them. Then it was a toddler with a mop of black curls taking his first steps as she reached out, encouraging him to come to her. Then it was her crying over a small device in her hand, demanding to know why her husband would exchange such messages with another woman. Solas saw them again, perhaps earlier this time for Liz looked very pregnant, as the husband shouted incoherently, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath, and punched the door as she cowered out of his way. Then it was a flash forward to the three of them sitting in the middle of the floor, happy again as the little boy unwrapped presents and a tree in the corner of the room glowed with little lights.

Liz turned to Solas when she reached the door to the dining room. “Solas?” she asked, not understanding why he didn’t follow her. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” he finally breathed. “There are many memories here. Powerful ones. A moment, please.” He looked to the door to the left, his curiosity stronger than ever. He wanted to know her story now, to understand. “May I?” he asked, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

“Yeah, sure,” she answered. “Feel free to look around. I’mma grab us something to drink.”

He turned the knob and stepped into the bedroom. There were baskets of unfolded laundry on the dressers and the bed appeared to be hastily made with its wrinkled red sheets and the shimmery looking quilt in shades of red, gold, silver, and purple. Always Kiss Me Goodnight was painted above the headboard and he barely had a moment to register it before another wave of memories flashed before his eyes. Liz and her husband curled up in bed, watching the strange frame on the wall with moving pictures in it, both of them looking happy and content. Then it was her and a new child he hadn’t seen before, the little boy jumping on the bed as she struggled to make it up, both of them laughing. “That’s my buggy. That’s my little man,” she cooed and threw herself onto the bed to grab up the little boy with his sandy colored curls, kissing his fat little cheeks as he squealed and laughed. The memory faded and it was her once again with the tiny black-haired baby asleep in his bassinette as she sat on the floor, her husband pounding on the door, demanding to be let in. There was a chair propped under the handle to prevent him from entering.

Solas shook his head to clear away the vision and wandered back into the main part of the house, into the dining room. Liz sat at the table with her husband, rolling her eyes as he droned on and on about money, about how he deserved a better life than this as the two boys ran screaming through the house, playing a game of their own making. Then it was them again, with friends at the table, all of them laughing as the husband entertained them with stories.

Solas could see the affection in Liz’s eyes for the man. She admired him, loved him, even for all his faults, despite the way he treated her. His stomach churned. The more he saw, the less and less he liked this man.

The husband sat at the table again as Liz brought a plate of food to him, setting it on the table as she kissed his cheek. He thanked her and told her it smelled wonderful. And then it was another night, a coldness in the air that hadn’t been there before, and once again, Liz brought dinner to the husband as he sat in his chair. “Soup? I go to work all day to provide for this house and the best thing I get for dinner is soup?!” A hurt looking Liz apologized and said she’d spent all afternoon preparing it, thinking soup sounded good on such a cold day. He huffed and ate it anyway, giving her nasty looks.

Solas moved on, into a strange room that didn’t make much sense to him. It was the same size as the others (were all the rooms in her house the same size?) but it held two large white metal boxes. A hamper of dirty clothes sat next to them. There was a dresser against the far wall, the white paint chipped on the drawers. To the left were a set of stairs. Shouting at the top of the stairs drew his attention. Liz and her husband seemed to be having an argument. She was screaming at him that she’d found beer bottles in his truck. He denied it, even though his expression and the way he swayed on his feet betrayed his state of inebriation. Liz was pregnant again in this memory, though not as far along as the last vision he’d seen. The husband grabbed her by the shoulders and made to shove her down the stairs. Solas’ eyes widened in anger. Liz managed to only stumble and grab the railing to steady herself before she ran down the stairs and fled the house.

Solas turned, meaning to confront Liz, but another memory appeared. Liz stood in the doorway next to the white boxes, looking nervous as her husband, shirtless, leaned against the doorframe. She asked him if he wanted her to fix him something to eat. He slapped her.

Solas headed toward the kitchen where he knew the conscious Liz would be. She smiled at him as she closed the door to yet another large white box, though this one was taller than what he’d seen in the other room. “Elizabeth,” he said, but stopped as more memories came into view.

It was her and the boy with dark hair, though he was older now. She let him stir the sauce on the stove and dump in the spices. “I’m gonna grow up and be a good cook just like you, Mommy!” Then it was her in the kitchen alone, dancing around to music as she washed the dishes, a silly smile on her face. It was her husband coming in from work and greeting her with a kiss, saying how happy he was to be home. And then it was her, on her knees, begging him not to go. To not leave her. Crying for him not to go with that other woman. Pleading. Desperate.

“Would you like a soda?”

Solas blinked and the memories vanished. “What?” he asked, feeling dazed. He looked at the can she offered him, a puzzled look on her face. He shook his head. “Why did you love him for so long?” he demanded.

“What?” she asked, feeling her defenses rise at the tone of his voice. “Who are you talking about?”

“This husband of yours,” he spat. “The memories here are so strong, I saw them. Even without you consciously showing me, I saw them. I saw him hit you. I saw you hide in your bedroom as he drunkenly tried to get to you. How could you love a man like that?”

Liz took a step back. “He was my husband,” she answered simply. It shocked her to know that he’d seen those things. And it shocked her even more to think that he cared enough to seem angry about it. She sighed and set the cans of soda on the counter. “James could be a dick. Especially when he was drinking. But he could also be incredibly kind. Charming. And funny. He was so funny. He always told the best stories.”

“That’s no reason to care for someone who obviously cared so little for you,” he stated. He’d seen similar visions in the Fade before, of abusive husbands and the women who refused to stop loving them. Even in their world, relationships like that existed. It angered him every time he witnessed such a thing. But never before had he had the chance to confront one of those women. “Why did you stay?”

“I had nowhere else to go,” she answered simply, as if it were obvious. “I did my best to be a good wife to him, to be a good mom to my boys. I made a promise to James, for better or worse. Just because everyone else in my society is so willing to make promises without any intention of keeping them, doesn’t mean I’m that way. I try very hard to always mean what I say. I don’t make promises lightly, and I never make them unless I know I can keep them. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same way.”

Solas looked down as Zero nuzzled his hand. He let his fingers curl behind the dog’s big, pointed ear. “Your convictions are admirable. But I do not see how that man was worthy of them,” he stated.

Liz shrugged. “Does it even matter anymore? What difference does it make if I stayed or if I didn’t? He didn’t. He saw a way out and took it.” She popped the tabs on the sodas and handed one to him. “If all you’re going to do is drudge up bad memories, you can leave my dream, thank you very much.” She turned and went back into the dining room and sat at the table, sipping her soda.

Solas frowned at the cold can in his hand as he followed her. He sipped it and pulled a face, making Liz laugh. “It’s entirely too sweet,” he complained.

“Everything is too sweet here,” she answered, still laughing at him. “Just drink it. It’ll grow on you.”

He took another swig, letting the bubbles roll over his tongue before he swallowed it down. “It’s almost as bad as the swill Dorian drank at the tavern,” he muttered. Now that the memories had stopped, he took in the room around him. “You like to read, I see,” he commented as he looked at the bookcases that lined her walls. He tilted his head to the side to better read the titles on the spines of the books. _Druid Magic. Earth, Air, Fire, & Water. Ancient Ways. Spell Craft. Witchcraft._ His eyebrows raised and he turned to look at her. “You are a witch? You practice magic?”

Liz almost choked on her soda. “Y-Yes,” she answered hesitantly. “But it’s not the magic you’re thinking of. I can’t do what you and Dorian do. What I do is more like… elaborate prayers? But, deeper than that. More than that. It’s hard to explain.”

He grabbed a large blue paperback and scanned a few pages. “It is a belief system,” he said. “I understand now.” He read a bit more, feeding his curiosity all the while. “It would seem your beliefs are similar to that of my people. Of many gods, not just the Maker. Tell me, is this the way most people in your world believe? Do you have a Chantry here?”

“Not a Chantry,” she answered, feeling relieved that he didn’t seem judgmental at all about her beliefs. “We have the church, which is similar. From what I understand, anyway. They seem alike. There are lots of people who believe the way I do, but it’s still somewhat, uh, taboo I suppose. It’s looked down on. Feared, even. People believe it’s something evil. Just like your world, most people follow the church’s teachings. Gods know my mother does. Shoves it down my throat every chance she gets.”

Solas gave a soft snort, not tearing his eyes away from the pages. “Perhaps our worlds are more similar than we think,” he said. He ran his fingers through Zero’s fur; the dog had followed him and now rested his head in Solas’ lap. “Is your mother aware that you believe differently than she does?”

Liz shook her head. “She’d disown me. Literally. I try to avoid the subject.”

Solas didn’t comment.

Liz chewed her lip for a moment. “Solas, I’m sorry I offended you. I didn’t mean to. And I appreciate that you looked after me when I nearly froze to death.” She shifted awkwardly in her seat. “Sometimes I react without thinking about how it affects other people. I was never very good at keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself.”

“It is alright,” he answered. “I was defensive. I did not give you time to explain yourself.” He looked up from the book. “Speaking of your reactions, I understand you and Cole had a misunderstanding today as well.”

Liz’s expression darkened. “That was no misunderstanding. That was murder, pure and simple. And no one did a damn thing about it,” she growled. “I swear, I ever see him around those soldiers again, he will regret it.”

“Stop,” Solas said firmly. “You do not understand Cole and what he is. He is not like you or I. He is a spirit in human form. He sees the world differently. He can hear other’s thoughts, he is drawn by their pain. That soldier asked for mercy and Cole gave it to him. Surely you can understand that. You care for others, you wish to end their suffering. The man would have died anyway. Was it not merciful to end his pain?”

She frowned as she thought about it. She hated seeing someone in pain and if the soldier truly was going to die, maybe what Cole did was not so monstrous. How many times had she held an elderly resident’s hand as he or she cried for god to take them, to end their life. They didn’t want to be there anymore. And she’d thought it cruel of god, or fate, or whatever greater power it was not to answer them. “I suppose it’s more that I have a problem with people playing god,” she said. “That man might’ve had a chance. He might have pulled through.”

“Perhaps. If he had not given up his will to live. He was done fighting for his life. No matter how much you might have wished to save him, he no longer wanted to be saved. Nothing you could have done at that point would have made a difference,” Solas said. “The man would have died anyway. And how much more time would you have spent caring for him? Time that you could have devoted to the others who still desperately need your attention?”

“I… I suppose that makes sense,” she said.

Solas gave a nod. “Cole is here to help the Inquisition. I’m not telling you to befriend him, certainly that’s not my place. But perhaps you could just speak with him the next time you meet him. You could gain a better understanding of who he is. Of what he is.”

“Alright, Solas,” she agreed. “You gave me a second chance. I suppose it’s only fair I do the same for him.”


	6. Chapter Six

Liz awoke with a mission on her mind. She had to find Cullen and apologize for the way she’d spoken to him the previous day. She thought about going to Solas, to ask him if the dream was real, but she knew it wasn’t necessary. She’d never had a dream like that and somehow, she knew it was real. She pulled on her boots and frowned. How many days had she gone without a shower now? She felt disgusting. She would have to figure something out soon. How did people bathe here? Maybe she could just bring a bucket of water to her room and scrub up that way.

She tied her hair back in a bun at the base of her skull and headed out, not worrying about breakfast as she was so determined to find Cullen. She sighed in disappointment when she reached the table where he’d been every day since they reached Skyhold. “Dammit,” she muttered. There was no sign of him anywhere. So she set to work taking care of the few soldiers that were left, thinking that she would speak to him whenever he turned up. But she didn’t see him for the entire morning and she wondered if perhaps he had busied himself with other matters just so he could avoid another run-in with her.

She was burning some old bandages when a dark-haired woman caught her eye. She recognized her from the walk to Skyhold when Cullen had pointed her out. Perhaps she would know where Cullen was. “Cassandra?” Liz called out and hurried after her. “It is Cassandra, right?”

“Yes,” she answered curtly as she turned and looked at Liz. “I know who you are. What do you need?”

Jeez, this woman was all business. “I, ah, I was wondering where Cullen is,” Liz answered. “I wanted to apologize to him for yesterday. I sort of snapped at him and it wasn’t his fault. But I haven’t seen him around his table at all today.”

“Ah, yes. That is because he now has an office,” Cassandra answered in her heavy accent. She pointed. “The stairs will be to your right. They will lead you straight up to Cullen’s office.”

“Thanks,” Liz grinned. “Oh! And thank you for the coat when I first got here. Cullen said you were the one who found it for me. I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome,” she stated and turned on her heel to stride away.

 _‘Cullen wasn’t exaggerating when he said she wasn’t very friendly,’_ Liz thought. She was just about to head to Cullen’s office when the surgeon grabbed her by the arm.

“I need your help,” she said and all but dragged Liz back towards the wounded soldiers. “I sent most of the others out this morning to look for more herbs, but they haven’t returned yet. And I fear it is far too late. We cannot wait any longer.”

“Oh gods, we’re not killing someone are we?” Liz cried as she reluctantly allowed herself to be dragged along.

“No. But that leg is going to have to come off,” the surgeon answered. “It is too infected and the fever will kill him if we do not do something now.”

Liz paled as she saw one of the soldiers, his pants leg rolled up revealing his calf. The flesh was torn and mottled with yellow and green, a sickening odor permeating the air around him. Her stomach churned. “I don’t know what to do!” she protested. The idea of surgery had always made her squeamish. To help conduct one was even worse.

The surgeon steered her to kneel above the man’s head. She grabbed up a rag and poured something onto it, then handed the rag to Liz. “Blood lotus essence,” she explained. “Hold it over his nose and mouth. It should render him unconscious in a few moments. Or at least dull the pain.”

Liz’s eyes went wide and she carefully placed the rag over the soldier’s face, even as he protested.

“Please! Wait for the healers to return with the herbs! I’m… I’m sure they can do something! Don’t take my leg. Don’t take my leg,” he whined, his protests growing weaker as the effects of the blood lotus began to take hold. His eyelids drooped and his eyes went glassy, his body relaxed.

Liz watched as the surgeon wrapped a tourniquet above the man’s knee and used a stick to tighten it. Her stomach churned at the knowledge of what was about to happen. When the surgeon asked her to hold the tourniquet in place, she nearly whimpered. Her hand shook as she took hold of the stick, keeping it firmly in place. She maintained her composure as the surgeon cut through the skin and muscle with a knife, but a sweat broke out over her skin, trickling down the back of her neck as the surgeon picked up the saw. She didn’t want to watch, yet she couldn’t seem to look away, either. This was horrible, so much worse than the bloody, gory movies her friends back home insisted on making her watch.

She gasped at the grating sound of metal teeth on bone. Blood splattered over her hands and arms with each quick pass of the surgeon’s saw. Her stomach roiled and she turned her head, retching, gagging.

“Hold that tourniquet!” the surgeon scolded.

“Sorry,” she gasped, fighting the urge to vomit. She shook all over, the joints in her elbows and knees aching from the mere thought of amputation.

The soldier gave a drugged groan, his arm lifted weakly in protest, and Liz realized he was still semi-conscious. “Please don’t wake up,” she whispered. She could only imagine what it would be like for him if he fully experienced this trauma. Her entire being chilled as the minutes seemed to drag on and she gave a cry when the surgeon moved the amputated limb aside. “Oh gods, is it over?” she cried.

“Not yet,” the surgeon answered as she picked up a file and began to smooth the bone.

Liz thought she would pass out.

But the worst part was when the surgeon picked up a hot iron and cauterized part of the wound. A loud sizzle rent the air, the soldier gave another cry of pain, and the most disgusting smell of burning meat hit Liz’s nose. Her eyes teared and she breathed shallowly through her nose. She didn’t know how much longer she could control her nausea. Horsehair was used to stitch the flesh back together, folding the muscle and skin over the smoothed end of the bone.When the surgeon began to bandage the leg, Liz rolled her eyes to the sky, silently thanking the gods that it was over.

“You can take a moment if you-“

Liz was gone before the surgeon could even complete her sentence. She had to get away, had to think of something else, anything else. But she couldn’t and she ended up doubling over a bush to vomit. She spat and rocked back on her heels, gasping, “Dammit.” Her hands began to shake worse as she looked at them, seeing the soldier’s blood coating her forearms. “This is why I never wanted to be a surgical nurse,” she muttered to herself as she stood upright. She’d dealt with seniors who were amputees, but that was different than being there for the procedure.

She felt light headed as she stumbled forward in a daze. It was then that she finally saw him, walking towards the table, speaking with one of the soldiers under his command. Yet now she didn’t exactly feel like talking to him, even though she knew she owed him an apology. She couldn’t exactly avoid him though; he was looking right at her.

“That’ll be all,” Cullen said to the soldier and strode forward to meet Liz. There was a bewilderment in her eyes as she stood there, covered in blood, her face a pale, almost sickly green color. “Elizabeth? What happened? You look a fright.”

“I had to help the surgeon,” she answered mechanically. She rubbed at her forehead, smearing blood across it. “I’m just… not used to that. I’m used to caring for my old people. Not hacking off limbs. This isn’t the kind of healing I do back home.” She dropped her hand and gave him a sorrowful look. “I don’t think I can do this, Cullen.”

“You can,” he assured her, his tone sympathetic. He reached out to give her shoulder a gentle pull, encouraging her to walk beside him. “You’re more help to the healers and the surgeon than you realize. But I believe you’ve earned an afternoon off. Let’s get you cleaned up and perhaps we can speak more about returning you to your home.” He paused and added with a chuckle, “I do believe I finally have a moment to breathe myself.”

“That sounds good,” she weakly agreed and let him lead her inside. She had done little more than wash her hands in cold water since she’d arrived. Getting properly cleaned up sounded amazing, though she wasn’t quite sure how bathing worked in such a place. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for yesterday. What happened wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve that. You know, me blaming you. Or… or threatening to beat you with my bucket.”

Cullen laughed at that. “That’s not the worst I’ve been threatened with, I assure you. Although if you ever need to defend yourself, I suggest something a little more intimidating.” He frowned at himself the next moment. “I don’t suppose you’ll be here long enough for that. You need to return to your children. And I imagine your husband misses you as well.”

Liz shook her head slowly. “I doubt that. That man probably doesn’t even know that I’m gone. And if he did, he wouldn’t miss me.” At Cullen’s questioning look, she explained, “He left me. We’re divorced.”

A dark look crossed Cullen’s features. “He left you?” he asked, a slight growl in his voice. “And his children? What possible reason could justify that?” Such things were not entirely unheard of, but they were few and far between, and certainly frowned upon.

She shrugged as they walked up a winding stone staircase. “He decided he didn’t want a family. It was too much responsibility, I suppose. Or it cut into his free time. He had an affair with a woman he worked with. Decided he’d rather be with her than us.” She sighed. “Oh well. Doesn’t matter now. They moved out of state. Haven’t seen him since the divorce was finalized.”

“How can a man abandon his family like that?” Cullen growled. His frown deepened and his hands moved to grip the end of his sword as they came to a stop outside a heavy wooden door. He drew a breath to calm himself before he spoke again. “Forgive my tone. It was unbecoming of me. It’s just that here, the Chantry teaches that we are to uphold our vows. Such things are taken very seriously. Do people not pledge themselves to each other until death?”

“They do,” she answered. “Most don’t mean it, though. It’s probably better this way. I don’t want to be with someone if they aren’t interested in me. I was tired of it all. I think I’d rather just go it alone. It’s easier that way. Well, maybe not easier, but certainly less dramatic.”

Cullen’s mouth pinched together and his brow furrowed. “It shouldn’t be anything like that. You shouldn’t have to deal …”He drifted off again and shook his head. “Forgive me. It is hard for me to understand a place where marriages are so easily broken. I keep forgetting that you are not from here.” He studied her for a moment as he leaned against the door and a small smile pulled at his lips. “There is a strength in you. You just hang in there. We will get this sorted.”

Liz ducked her head. “Thank you, Cullen. I don’t feel it today; it’s nice to hear it.”

A silence grew between them before he cleared his throat and stood up straight again. “Well, I should let you get cleaned up. I’ll have someone bring you some fresh clothing.” He hoped he wasn’t being too forward when he spoke next, “If you like, you may find me in the courtyard when you’re done. We could, ah, discuss our options for helping you find your way home.”

She gave him a small smile. “I would like that. I’ll come find you,” she promised, then slipped through the door, eager to finally have a proper bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit to doing more nerdy research for this chapter than I probably should have. And watching amputations (even reenactments) is just awful.


End file.
